Word: goates
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...gain insight into the mundane, have found a path to stinging profundity through bestiality? Had he combined the best of both worlds—serious commentary with some animal sex jokes thrown in along the way? The disappointing answer is no. Though its aspirations may be high, The Goat or Who is Sylvia? quickly succumbs to its subject matter and sacrifices a chance at the sublime in order to wallow in easy mediocrity...
...first hour of the ninety-minute, intermissionless play derives virtually all of its humor from the shock value of the existence of man-goat love. Martin, played by the affable film actor Bill Pullman is a successful architect who enjoys a still passionate marriage to Stevie, portrayed by the Tony and Academy Award-recipient Mercedes Ruehl. They have a lovely modern apartment, a lovely gay son and a lovely well-financed lifestyle. The applecart is violently upset, however, when it is revealed Martin is having an affair. With Sylvia. Who is a goat...
...revelation should be the starting point for the play, but instead it turns out to be its stalling point. From its few well-constructed moments, one can glimpse that it’s supposed to be a play where the surface level involves unspeakable sexual acts between man and goat, but the real meaning has to do with acceptance, normalcy, family and love. The problem, though, is that it’s not actually about those concepts- it’s about bestiality. And it’s also about how many different ways the gifted Ruehl can berate...
...sneaky ability to shift the foundation of his fictional world. When trying to sort out the details of an affair, Martin’s best friend Ross (portrayed by American Repertory Theatre founding member Stephen Rowe) questions, “Sylvia––the goat who you’re fucking?” “Don’t say that,” responds Martin curtly, before correcting him, “whom...
Those fighters sometimes seem to be the only things that move. In Shah-i-Kot you will rarely find a goat or a donkey or even a dog. Clusters of abandoned or destroyed mud-brick houses stand silent. Just a few weeks ago, these high-walled settlements were home to al-Qaeda fighters and their families. Now they look like a kind of Dresden transferred to a tiny, medieval world. In the village of Sarkhankhel, charred headstones are all that remain of many houses; crumbled walls carpet the ground. It's as though a finger of retribution reached from...